The Vicomte de Bragelonne

by Alexandre Dumas

  CHAPTER LXVI.

  AFTER THE STORM.

  Our readers will doubtlessly have been asking themselves how it happenedthat Athos, of whom not a word has been said for some time past, arrivedso very opportunely at court. We will, without delay, endeavor tosatisfy their curiosity.

  Porthos, faithful to his duty as an arranger of affairs, had,immediately after leaving the Palais Royal, set off to join Raoul at theMinimes in the Bois de Vincennes, and had related everything, even tothe smallest details, which had passed between Saint-Aignan and himself.He finished by saying that the message which the king had sent to hisfavorite would not probably occasion more than a short delay, and thatSaint-Aignan, as soon as he could leave the king, would not lose amoment in accepting the invitation which Raoul had sent him. But Raoul,less credulous than his old friend, had concluded, from Porthos'recital, that if Saint-Aignan was going to the king, Saint-Aignan wouldtell the king everything; and that the king would, therefore, forbidSaint-Aignan to obey the summons he had received to the hostile meeting.The consequence of his reflections was, that he had left Porthos toremain at the place appointed for the meeting, in the very improbablecase that Saint-Aignan would come there; and had endeavored to makePorthos promise that he would not remain there more than an hour or anhour and a half at the very longest. Porthos, however, formally refusedto do anything of the kind, but, on the contrary, installed himself inthe Minimes as if he were going to take root there, making Raoul promisethat when he had been to see his father, he would return to his ownapartments, in order that Porthos' servant might know where to find him,in case M. de Saint-Aignan should happen to come to the rendezvous.

  Bragelonne had left Vincennes, and had proceeded at once straight to theapartments of Athos, who had been in Paris during the last two days, thecomte having been already informed of what, had taken place by a letterfrom D'Artagnan. Raoul arrived at his father's; Athos, after having heldout his hand to him, and embraced him most affectionately, made a signfor him to sit down.

  "I know you come to me as a man would go to a friend, vicomte, wheneverhe is suffering; tell me, therefore, what it is that brings you now."

  The young man bowed, and began his recital; more than once in the courseof it his tears almost choked his utterance, and a sob, checked in histhroat, compelled him to suspend his narrative for a few minutes.However, he finished at last. Athos most probably already knew howmatters stood, as we have just now said D'Artagnan had already writtento him; but, preserving until the conclusion that calm, unruffledcomposure of manner which constituted the almost superhuman side of hischaracter, he replied, "Raoul, I do not believe there is a word of truthin the rumors; I do not believe in the existence of what you fear,although I do not deny that persons most entitled to the fullest credithave already conversed with me on the subject. In my heart and soul Ithink it utterly impossible that the king could be guilty of such anoutrage upon a gentleman. I will answer for the king, therefore, andwill soon bring you back the proof of what I say."

  Raoul, wavering like a drunken man between what he had seen with his owneyes, and the imperturbable faith he had in a man who had never told afalsehood, bowed, and simply answered, "Go, then, Monsieur le Comte; Iwill await your return." And he sat down, burying his face in his hands.Athos dressed, and then left him, in order to wait upon the king; theresult of that interview is already known to our readers.

  When he returned to his lodgings, Raoul, pale and dejected, had notquitted his attitude of despair. At the sound, however, of the openingdoors, and of his father's footsteps as he approached him, the young manraised his head. Athos' face was very pale, his head uncovered, and hismanner full of seriousness; he gave his cloak and hat to the lackey,dismissed him with a gesture, and sat down near Raoul.

  "Well, monsieur," inquired the young man, "are you quite convinced now?"

  "I am, Raoul; the king loves Mademoiselle de la Valliere."

  "He confesses it, then?" cried Raoul.

  "Yes," replied Athos.

  "And she?"

  "I have not seen her."

  "No; but the king spoke to you about her. What did he say?"

  "He says that she loves him."

  "Oh, you see--you see, monsieur!" said the young man, with a gesture ofdespair.

  "Raoul," resumed the comte, "I told the king, believe me, all that youyourself could possibly have said; and I believe I did so in becominglanguage, though sufficiently firm."

  "And what did you say to him, monsieur?"

  "I told him, Raoul, that everything was now at an end between him andourselves; that you would never serve him again. I told him that I, too,should remain aloof. Nothing further remains for me, then, than to besatisfied of one thing."

  "What is that, monsieur?"

  "Whether you have determined to adopt any steps."

  "Any steps? Regarding what?"

  "With reference to your disappointed affection, and--to your ideas ofvengeance."

  "Oh, monsieur, with regard to my affection, I shall, perhaps, some dayor other, succeed in tearing it from my heart; I trust I shall do so,aided by Heaven's merciful help, and your wise exhortations. As far asvengeance is concerned, it occurred to me only when under the influenceof an evil thought, for I could not revenge myself upon the one who isactually guilty; I have, therefore, already renounced every idea ofrevenge."

  "And so you no longer think of seeking a quarrel with M. deSaint-Aignan?"

  "No, monsieur; I sent him a challenge; if M. de Saint-Aignan acceptsit, I will maintain it; if he does not take it up, I will leave it whereit is."

  "And La Valliere?"

  "You cannot, I know, have seriously thought that I should dream ofrevenging myself upon a woman?" replied Raoul, with a smile so sad thata tear started even to the eyes of his father, who had so many times inthe course of his life been bowed beneath his own sorrows and those ofothers.

  He held out his hand to Raoul, which the latter seized most eagerly.

  "And so, Monsieur le Comte, you are quite satisfied that the misfortuneis without a remedy?" inquired the young man.

  "Poor boy!" he murmured.

  "You think that I still live in hope," said Raoul, "and you pity me. Oh,it is indeed a horrible suffering for me to despise, as I ought to do,the one I have loved so devotedly. If I only had but some real cause ofcomplaint against her, I should be happy, and should be able to forgiveher."

  Athos looked at his son with a sorrowful air, for the latter words whichRaoul had just pronounced, seemed to have issued out of his own heart.At this moment the servant announced M. d'Artagnan. This name soundedvery differently to the ears of Athos and of Raoul. The musketeerentered the room with a vague smile upon his lips. Raoul paused. Athoswalked toward his friend with an expression of face which did not escapeBragelonne. D'Artagnan answered Athos' look by an imperceptible movementof the eyelid; and then, advancing toward Raoul, whom he took by thehand, he said, addressing both father and son, "Well, you are trying toconsole this poor boy, it seems."

  "And you, kind and good as usual, are come to help me in my difficulttask."

  As he said this, Athos pressed D'Artagnan's hand between both his own;Raoul fancied he observed in this pressure something beyond the sensehis mere words conveyed.

  "Yes," replied the musketeer, smoothing his mustache with the hand thatAthos had left free, "yes, I have come also."

  "You are most welcome, chevalier; not for the consolation you bring withyou, but on your own account. I am already consoled," said Raoul; and heattempted to smile, but the effect was far more sad than any tearsD'Artagnan had ever seen shed.

  "That is all well and good, then," said D'Artagnan.

  "Only," continued Raoul, "you have arrived just as the comte was aboutto give me the details of his interview with the king. You will allowthe comte to continue?" added the young man, as, with his eyes fixed onthe musketeer, he seemed to read into the very depths of his heart.

  "His interview with the king?" said D'Artagnan, in a tone so
natural andunassumed that there was no means of suspecting that his astonishmentwas feigned. "You have seen the king, then, Athos!"

  Athos smiled as he said, "Yes, I have seen him."

  "Ah, indeed; you were not aware, then, that the comte had seen hismajesty?" inquired Raoul, half reassured.

  "Yes, indeed, quite so."

  "In that case I am less uneasy," said Raoul.

  "Uneasy--and about what?" inquired Athos.

  "Forgive me, monsieur," said Raoul, "but knowing so well the regard andaffection you have for me, I was afraid you might possibly haveexpressed somewhat plainly to his majesty my own sufferings and yourindignation, and that the king had consequently--"

  "And that the king had consequently?" repeated D'Artagnan; "well, go on,finish what you were going to say."

  "I have now to ask you to forgive me, Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Raoul."For a moment, and I cannot help confessing it, I trembled lest you hadcome here, not as M. d'Artagnan, but as captain of the musketeers."

  "You are mad, my poor boy," cried D'Artagnan, with a burst of laughter,in which an exact observer might perhaps have wished to have heard alittle more frankness.

  "So much the better," said Raoul.

  "Yes, mad; and do you know what I would advise you to do?"

  "Tell me, monsieur, for the advice is sure to be good as it comes fromyou."

  "Very good, then; I advise you, after your long journey from England,after your visit to M. de Guiche, after your visit to Madame, after yourvisit to Porthos, after your journey to Vincennes, I advise you, I say,to take a few hours' rest; go and lie down, sleep for a dozen hours, andwhen you wake up, go and ride one of my horses until you have tired himto death."

  And drawing Raoul toward him, he embraced him as he would have done hisown child. Athos did the like; only it was very visible that the kisswas more affectionate, and the pressure of his lips still warmer withthe father than with the friend. The young man again looked at both hiscompanions, endeavoring to penetrate their real meaning, or their realfeelings, with the utmost strength of his intelligence; but his look waspowerless upon the smiling countenance of the musketeer, or upon thecalm and composed features of the Comte de la Fere. "Where are yougoing, Raoul?" inquired the latter, seeing that Bragelonne was preparingto go out.

  "To my own apartments," replied the latter, in his soft and sad voice.

  "We shall be sure to find you there, then, if we should have anything tosay to you?"

  "Yes, monsieur; but do you suppose it likely you will have something tosay to me?"

  "How can I tell?" said Athos.

  "Yes, something fresh to console you with," said D'Artagnan, pushing himtoward the door.

  Raoul, observing the perfect composure which marked every gesture of histwo friends, quitted the comte's room, carrying away with him nothingbut the individual feeling of his own particular distress.

  "Thank Heaven," he said, "since that is the case, I need only think ofmyself."

  And wrapping himself in his cloak, in order to conceal from thepassers-by in the streets his gloomy and sorrowful face, he quittedthem, for the purpose of returning to his own rooms, as he had promisedPorthos. The two friends watched the young man as he walked away with afeeling akin to pity; only each expressed it in a very different way.

  "Poor Raoul!" said Athos, sighing deeply.

  "Poor Raoul!" said D'Artagnan, shrugging his shoulders.